Red Eyes
by voi ch'intrate
Summary: Jasper Whitlock is sent into the Southern US on a mission that is the catalyst for his leaving the Mexican coven. But what could possibly spur him along? And what does it have to do with a certain blue-eyed little girl from Mississippi?
1. Red Eyes

**I am not Stephenie Meyer. I do not own any of these characters. Consider yourselves disclaimed for the remainder of this debacle...**

* * *

**Red Eyes**

_"Let it burn in your eyes. Your cover is blown this time.  
And you knew, but you knew this was gonna happen; you could taste the red hands.  
And like flies, you'll eat the worst of everything."  
-"_Taste the Red Hands" by Dead Poetic

I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, stealing another glance over my shoulder to make sure Maria wasn't following me. She had sent me on a mission several months ago, one that had led me traipsing through the Southern States. I was getting rather wary of her tyrannical rule.

Every sound echoed through my ears and was processed in my brain, a disgusting squirrel sat to my left on a tree branch, and a baby cried in a house to my right. I could hear the frazzled mother muttering under her breath. She was woeful about having a colicky baby and a child who was distant and unresponsive.

She was so upset; her tumultuous emotions reached me almost half a mile away. She was upset, regretful, sad and furious all at the same time. I found myself being drawn to her. I could smell the fresh baby she held: the wet, hot, new blood underneath that soft, pink skin. I licked my lips in anticipation and a growl rumbled in my chest. I could feel my throat constricting with thirst, that delicious fire scorching my neck.

I started out slowly at first, eager to prolong my sweet torture. As I neared the house, I could see the mother through the window. She was a petite, plump woman with a thick plait of dark hair that fell down her back. The baby wriggled in her arms, flailing its fatty, pink limbs. I smiled to myself.

The other child was huddled in the middle of the yard, drawing pictures in the dirt with a stick. She had a wild shock of blue-black hair that hung in limp waves around her shoulders and over her face. She was a tiny thing, so much so that she was almost unappetizing.

I stood just behind the cover of the trees, watching the clouds scoot over the sun. It would be a safe time for me to make my move; no one would miss that gangly, little thing. I smacked my lips.

And suddenly, she looked up and stared directly into my eyes, and I felt something akin to shame congeal into my stomach. She had startlingly, bluish gray eyes, opened wide enough that I could see little crescents of white around the ice blue irises. She smiled at me and then very pointedly waved to me. Her frail, little arm rose above her head and rocked back and forth.

She could not possibly see me, I reasoned. She would have had to have vampire sight to be able to see my figure hidden in the shadow of a towering pine. I took a deep breath in and held it. I didn't want to kill her. At least I thought I didn't.

I stepped away from the small wood, and shyly waved back to her. She answered me with a smile and another timid wave.

I began to walk forward at a human speed, not wanting to scare the child. This was my first encounter with a human that was not meant to satiate my perpetual thirst. I merely wanted to see her up close.

She continued to stare at me with those startling eyes. She remained unblinking until I was close enough to reach out and touch her. I clenched my hands into fists behind my back instead. Her little eyes continued to stare, unblinking and unmoving.

I wanted to talk to her, to ask her what was wrong.

She suddenly looked down, bashful and started rubbing the hem of her lacey dress between her little, dirt-covered fingers.

I smiled softly and unclenched my fists so I could ruffle her hair

Her tiny hands beat me there; she combed her fingers through her tresses and tried to smooth the mess down. She stared at me from under the fringe of her dark eyelashes. I wanted badly to know her name, but she shook her head almost as if she knew I was going to ask. I pressed my lips into a thin line and refrained from asking her my question.

Her emotions were mainly blank. I could detect brief flashes of happiness or sadness as her eyes darted around the yard. She didn't acknowledge me for several more minutes. She sat nearly completely still, eyes closed and breathing deeply.

I watched her pulse fluttered through the thin, blue vines of her veins. I wanted to taste her; I wanted to relish in the feeling of rending her tiny neck with my teeth. I wanted to bury my nose into her flesh and inhale deeply so I could forever remember her scent. I wanted her to be the one to quell the monster within me.

She recoiled away from me and then looked up at me with wide, honest, blue eyes. I stared at her, trying to understand.

God, I was so far gone that I would drain a child dry without so much as a second thought.

I stood up and backed away from that beautiful, helpless, delicious, vulnerable child. Her blue eyes watched me go and she nodded, appeased. She waved to me as I went and I tried to wave back but the motion was stiff. She frowned, her eyebrows pulling together.

I wanted to tell her I could kill her. I couldn't be her friend.

"No," she said in a high, childish voice, "at least not yet."

I couldn't understand what she meant, and I figured I'd never know. I turned and loped back to the tree line, hiding myself quickly.

She didn't look back at me, and that was the last time I would see her blue eyes. However, I decided to hide myself in the foliage of one of the trees and I watched her for that afternoon.

Occasionally she would draw a picture in the dirt surrounding her, and sometimes she would stare into the distance for an innumerable amount of minutes.

Finally at dusk, her harried mother came outside and scooped her up. Though she appeared to be older, she was still small enough to be carried like a toddler. She wrapped her tiny arms around her mother's shoulders and buried her head into the crook of her mother's neck.

Her mother cooed softly to her, and placated her wild hair. I frowned, suddenly missing my own mother and craving companionship.

The little girl sighed, and started to speak in incoherent sentences. She was mumbling, so I couldn't understand her.

The mother's emotions spiked to fear and disdain. She hated the fact that her firstborn was incompetent. I wouldn't necessarily have called that little girl incompetent. She was beautiful and different, even for a human.

The mother sighed and hugged her little girl closer to her chest, and her emotions turned to disappointment. "Don't talk nonsense, Mary Alice. You know real people don't have red eyes."

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**I was brainstorming one night and I wondered what an Alice/Jasper encounter would have been like if she was still a little kid, and he was a vampire still in the Mexican coven. When I originally told my older sister of the idea, she thought it would suck. Oh ye of little faith. Here's our AIM conversation:**

**me:** _so, if it was like I dunno 1908-ish, and she's in Biloxi, what if she happened to by chance meet a red-eyed vampire...? and he doesn't suck her blood. he's cooler than that_  
**sister:** _she'd be like 7  
_**me:** _yes, yes she would_  
**sister:** _i'm lost_  
**me:** _what if the first time they met, wasn't in the cafe in Pennsylvania? oooooh_  
**sister:** _oooooooo. You're retarded_  
**me:** _you suck_  
**sister: **_yea_  
**me:** _i thought it was a good idea. D: [pouts] c'mon what do you think?!_  
**sister:** _i don't really like stories like that...  
_**me:** _you're a bum. Imma do it anywayz :d  
_**sister:** _fun what ev but when it gets flamed don't come cryin to me  
_**me:** _I say again, you're a bum_

**I proved her wrong. She liked it. Did you? **

**UPDATE AS OF MARCH '09: Apparently ya'll did like it!! Oh my gosh! So through the poll I had on my profile as well as all of your reviews, I have decided to continue this and turn it into a full-blown Jasper/Alice story, from well before their meeting up until Twilight takes place and even beyond!!**

**ALSO, I added the lyrics at the beginning of this chapter. They're from the Dead Poetic song Taste the Red Hands, go listen to it on Project Playlist or YouTube if you've never heard the song before. It's really awesome! One of my favourites.**


	2. El Monstruo

**El Monstruo **

"_Tell the tales of the trail of dead, lovers learn from slower hands,  
__Losing self in myself, inner demons make demands.  
You're sick, sick as all the secrets that you deny,  
Sins like skeletons are so very hard to hide."  
_-"Reclusion" by Anberlin

_"Dame las personas en el pueblo, por favor, Jasper."_

I nodded as I stared at Maria. She lazily played with the ends of her dark hair.

_"¿Todas las personas?" _I asked in the fluent Spanish I had picked up as a side effect of being under her dominion.

She nodded her head and looked at me with hooded, crimson eyes, _"Sí. Todas las personas, Jasper, tú no puedes estar fallarme."_

I nodded. I wouldn't fail her again. I hadn't brought her new victims after my strange trip to Mississippi. I had been punished for that. I could still feel the sting of venom on my granite skin, to say that I was humiliated was a vast understatement.

Peter was the one who cared for me when the sting made moving unbearable.

He was a kind boy, too young to have been brought into a world of such misery and death. We were such disgusting creatures; but the camaraderie I shared with Peter brought me back to my old self a little.

When I was with him, I was Jasper Whitlock, the young Texan who lied about his age so he could fight the Yankees—I wasn't Jasper the vampire, the monster.

"Hey, _mi amigo," _Peter said coming next to me, his Spanish was lacking which was a constant thorn in Maria's side but endeared me more to him.

"I just got assigned to do a village raid, you'll come with me as my second in command," I informed him

Peter frowned and brushed crisp strands of his white-blonde hair away from his maroon eyes. "Do we have to rout again?"

I sighed, "Yes. Maria wants us to take everyone in the village."

Peter growled, "I don't like taking children, it makes me feel like a monster."

"Neither do I," I grimaced, remembering those ice blue eyes of that little girl in Biloxi. Every time I'd tried to take a child after my encounter with her I felt the pure, unadulterated guilt settle into my belly.

"God, Jasper," Peter shivered, "Why are you sending me such waves of guilt?"

I snapped to attention and pulled my gift in, not wanting to cause Peter discomfort.

"What's the matter, Jasper, you seem upset?"

"I'm just not in the mood to raid another village," I said through my teeth.

Peter nodded, seeming appeased with my answer.

We waited until nightfall before we set upon the little _pueblo. _Our skin glowed unnaturally pale in the moonlight, mine and Peter's, Charlotte's and Maria's.

We brought along a few newborns on that particular raid. The _pueblo _was full of women and the elderly, easy kills. Men tended to fight more and while that was fun, sometimes it was more appealing to have a peaceful meal.

We started with the outer _casas _first, moving inward towards the more central adobe buildings.

I was already at my limit of blood, having devoured an old man and his entire family easily. The beast within me was satiated and happy. If only for a moment.

I met up with Peter near the town well. He had drying blood at the corners of his drawn lips and his eyes were a delicious ruby colour.

"Had your fill yet?" He asked in a contented tone, patting his own full stomach.

I nodded, the action seemed lazy.

"What do we do now?" Peter asked, staring up at the full moon.

"Wait for Maria, I guess," I shrugged. Several of the newborns fluttered past us in a flurry of white skin and blood-stained eyes. Peter laughed at their wide-eyed eagerness. I forced myself to laugh with him, leeching off his mirth.

Soon Charlotte came timidly from behind one of the large, tan buildings her clothes were disheveled and blood-stained.

"Did someone try to fight you?" Peter asked with what seemed to be unnecessary concern. She nodded, her corn silk hair tumbling past her little shoulders.

"Two brothers tried to attack me after I drained one of their wives. I think they were surprised when they couldn't hurt me," she said, sounding blasé. Her emotions betrayed her, however; she had been scared.

"Are you alright now?" Peter asked her. I glared at him; he seemed far too concerned with her well-being.

She nodded and discreetly slipped her hand within his.

I was shocked but didn't let the emotion register, what they chose to do was no concern of mine. It was natural to want to find a mate. I sometimes felt that longing, that loneliness of wanting for a companion. I couldn't fault Peter or Charlotte for feeling that same thing.

I sent them a little reassurance and couldn't help the dose of lust I sent them.

Peter looked at me questioningly, "Jasper?"

I smirked and looked away with a shrug. Peter sighed and grumble under his breath. "You know?"

"You are holding her hand," I said quietly.

Peter extricated his hand from Charlotte's. I narrowed my eyes, "Don't stop just because I saw. You deserve to find a mate, Peter."

Peter smiled and grabbed Charlotte's hand back.

She was more than a little bewildered that I knew. She was confused and upset, so I tried to make her feel a little more peaceful. She tried to squirm away from my power, feeling discomfort instead of peace.

"Don't worry, Charlotte," I murmured. She turned to look at me, her still ultra-red eyes staring fearfully at me.

"Do not be afraid," I said in a low voice so that the newborns or Maria wouldn't hear, "I won't tell Maria about the two of you. I'll keep your secret."

Peter smiled at me, completely at ease. I hoped that his relaxedness would rub off a little on her. She had no need to fear me, didn't she? I wasn't a monster, was I?

That little girl in Mississippi had been afraid of me. I had felt the fear. Was it truly because I was a monster, though?

I cringed as I heard Maria's tender little footsteps come up behind us. I sent Peter and Charlotte a warning glare, they immediately stepped apart.

"_Jasper, Peter, Carlotta, que están haciendo?" _She asked, glaring at Peter as he did so. He looked at her sheepishly.

_"Nada, Maria. Nosotros habíamos terminado de comer," _I shrugged. It was the truth, we all were done.

Maria narrowed her bright garnet-coloured eyes at me, "And what do you think you're doing standing around?" She asked in accented English.

"Like I said, _nada," _I replied, a bit snidely.

She took a deep, unnecessary, breath and blew it out angrily through her nose. "Jasper, come with me."

I startled, "What do you need me to do."

She started flitting between the barren buildings, full of rotting and dry corpses. I had to run in long strides to catch up with her.

"Maria! What do you need me to do?" I demanded.

"You?" She laughed hysterically, "I've saved you a special victim."

I felt a finger of terror brush up my spine. "A victim?"

She nodded maliciously, "I heard you say something to Peter about how you think you're a monster…I know this must have something to do with that little mission I sent you on. So I'm going to make you be your old self Jasper."

I felt sick to my stomach, all that blood gurgling back into my throat.

Maria ducked into one of the adobe building and brought a little girl out. Her eyes were clenched tight and she was whimpering, fear rolling off her in tight, little waves.

"I want you to take this little girl. You are a monster, Jasper, embrace it," she said in a seductive purr.

I couldn't. I couldn't do it, I couldn't bring that hunger forward; I couldn't make it so that I would drain that precious blood from that little girl. She opened her eyes and they were brilliant and sky blue. Not the normal dirt brown of the Mexicans.

I could already taste the blood coming up into the back of my mouth. I tried to choke it back down.

"_Maria, no puedo," _I whispered.

"You can't do it?" She demanded, baring her square, white teeth, "You will do it Jasper."

She reached down and pinched a little dirty patch of the girl's skin between her sharp fingernails. A little bubble of red appeared upon the tanned flesh it flowed in a steady stream down her bony arm.

It smelled absolutely heavenly.

I didn't think I could even drink anymore, especially not from that little girl with those startlingly similar eyes, but I did.

I bent forward until my teeth cut easily through her little brown throat. Her scream caught off into a gurgle under my teeth. I could feel the thin bands of her vocal cords contract as she struggled. She clawed uselessly at my forearms, breaking her nails into little nubs in the process.

Her blood tasted fabulous to me. Not too sweet and a little heady. Beautiful. I could feel my eyes roll luxuriously into the back of my head.

God, it was magnificent, and just like that every wall I had built up due to that strange little girl in Biloxi was ripped down.

I dropped that dirty, little pile of bones and flesh as her blood dripped in messy lines down my chin. She choked a little, her eyes still wide she tried to breath but her neck was open to wide and her blood drained nearly enough.

My venom was already making her numb but it was useless to turn her into one of us, she was already dead as far as eternity was concerned; but she did manage one final act before her heart stopped. "_Monstruo_," she muttered, "_monstruo_."

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**This chapter was why I upped the rating on this story. It's M, not because I'm making plans for future scenes of the adult-oriented, nude kind--but because this is going to be rather grotesque. We always get the happy-go-lucky view of the Twilight vampires. Oh yeah, they're vegetarians, but truth is Jasper _wasn't. _So you're just going to have to deal with Jasper being kind of nefarious until a little bit later on in this story.**

**Also, this story is NOT going to update regularly. I just can't do that to myself. This is going to be a 'when inspiration hits' kind of story. I'll try not to make it like months between chapters, hopefully I'll get on a roll and really get into this story, but that hasn't happened yet--so no regular updates. I do have good reasons other than being a lazily writer. Most of which deals with school and work, and those come first. I wish they didn't, but they do. **

**More about this chapter: I'll translate the Spanish for you if you so desire. I think I explained everything that they said pretty well and some of it you can figure out. I always wondered why no one had Maria speaking Spanish in their fanfics or in the actual Twilight books. I know she can speak English, but still Spanish was probably her mother-tongue, so I think she should get to speak it. _Yo pienso que ella hable su idioma!!!_**

**Oh, also, because I don't know if this isn't blatantly obvious but I still think I should put it, _'El Monstruo' _means 'The Monster'. FYI.**

**One more thing, the song I quoted at the beginning, "Reculusion" by Anberlin is totally about Jasper. I swear it is. I was going through my iTunes library listening to some older stuff and that song like jumped out and bit me. It's so written about Jasper. If you haven't heard it before YouTube it or go to Project Playlist and look it up!**

**PLEASE REVIEW!**

**EDIT: Some of my Spanish has been changed thanks to a kind anonymous reviewer who helped me out a little. Said reviewer was also wondering why Charlotte is called Carlotta, but Peter not Pedro. Maria is going to dislike Peter is this fic, so she barely likes to address him let alone change his name to suit her speech. I think my Microsoft messed some spelling up on my Spanish, too; so if you see any errors, please tell me.**


	3. In the Past or the Future

**In the Past or the Future**

"_Well, I swear to God we've been down this road before,  
The guilt's no good, and it only shames us more,  
And the truths that we all try to hide,  
Are so much clearer when its not our lives,  
When we don't face the blame."_

_-_"Hear Me Now" by Framing Hanley

I held Maria's hand as she listed off the names of the vampires to be killed. She would give my fingers a little squeeze every time she said the name of another doomed vampire.

I watched it all distractedly. Nothing really seemed to faze me anymore.

Something in me had died, slowly and painfully. A small part of me knew what that something was. It was Jasper Whitlock, the young Texan whose mama and papa would've been proud that he was fighting the war. Jasper Whitlock was as dead as his brethren who had been killed by the Northerners by cannons and bullets. Jasper Whitlock had been killed by a vampire, a monster.

And that monster was me.

I sighed as Maria kept going down her list, briefing the other offices and I. We were today's executioners. Before the sun set there would be smoking piles of remains, of our comrades, our friends.

I decided against paying attention to the names. Instead I retreated into the memories I had stored away.

The pictures were hazy and it made me sad. But I had to remember my family. I couldn't let Jasper Whitlock die for good.

So I remembered my mama. The way her hair smelled, or the way she'd smile affectionately at my father and me. I remembered the way her fried chicken or pecan pie tasted. My stomach craved for those but I knew it would taste foul to me now.

I made myself drudge up the sad memories, too. Like when I got in a fight with the town drunk and Mama wouldn't talk to me for a week, she was so disappointed. Papa, however, had been proud that I'd proved myself a man.

Suddenly, without warning, I felt an overwhelming wave of despair, hatred, hopelessness and overall sorrow pound into me with alarming strength. I had a bit of a head-rush from it all—blinding heat rose up to my eyes and I felt feverish. Never had I felt such an onslaught of emotions.

I glanced around my comrade's faces, desperately trying to locate the epicenter of emotions.

Peter.

Why was he so upset? So tormented?

Our eyes met and I could feel the rush of oxygen cut off to my lungs as I stopped breathing.

It must have been Charlotte. Maria must have called her name. Peter's mate was doomed to die.

His dark crimson eyes met mine pleadingly and I could see he was formulating a plan. And truth be told, I was too.

I held his gaze for a moment or two before turning my attention back to Maria. She continued her litany of names before we were to commit our holocaust.

Maria adjourned our meeting and Peter and I were free to confer.

"Charlotte," he sobbed brokenly.

I hesitated and then put my hands on his shoulders, "You'll need to run, Peter. Get far away from here."

He blinked at me several times before whispering, "You mean for us to run away?"

I nodded reluctantly, I would miss the boy.

"Come with us, Jazz," he said, using the nickname he'd coined for me. Jazz was his favourite kind of music, good Louisiana boy that he was. I half smiled at him.

"I can't go with you, Pete," I said, forcing my smile. "Maria would go crazy without me."

"Man, she's crazy with you! Please, I can't leave here without you knowing you're safe. It's only a matter of time before she tires of her favourite toy and it'll be you ripped to shreds and turned into a smokestack!"

I grimaced, knowing that what he was saying was true.

"Just think about it, Jasper," he said quietly.

I nodded, hoping that I would make the right decision.

I revaluated my life over the last few decades. It felt as if the years I had been with Maria had been as long as a millennia and as shot as an hour. The concept of time was completely lost on me and I realized that I didn't even know the date. It scared me to think that if I were still human I would probably have been dead and rotting six-feet under.

I sighed. There was no use thinking about things like that.

Peter and I were paired together as the killers of the evening. The other officers were set to tend the piles of smoking remains or to usher the doomed into the small clearing. We were a good distance away from anyone, prime time for Peter and his mate to run.

We continued out task of mindlessly tearing our friends to pieces, not stopping to hear the begging and pleading. Nor the screams.

Suddenly Charlotte was ushered to us.

She wore a plain white shift, her bird-like frame trembling. She looked like a pale, little ghost standing against the backdrop of the dark, twilight sky.

Her eyes were black in thirst and looked as if she would cry if she could.

Peter ran forward and gathered her into his arms.

Their hair tangled together in the wind, two pale shades of hay-like blonde.

He murmured to her softly as her fear quivered in demure tremors, radiating from her small body. Peter cooed to her, crushing her body to his.

I darted forward and stood several paces away from them. Their love mingled with fear and expectance was driving me mad.

"You must be quick," I said tersely.

Peter clasped my arm, "If we're going to run, you have to come with us."

"Yes, Jasper, please come," Charlotte murmured, taking me by surprise. Usually, she regarded me with a wary fear that made her timid. But her love had made her empowered. I tried to smile for her.

"You two go first," I said breathlessly, "I'll finish the task and follow you."

Peter shook his head, "How do I know you're not lying to us? I need to know you'll follow?"

"I will meet you in El Paso; from there we will travel north. Stay in the shadows," I instructed, "don't look for me. I'll find you."

The finality of my tone convinced Peter. He nodded and then gave me a stern look—sealing our promise.

He took Charlotte by the hand and together they ran away, never to look back.

I continued to do my work, pretending not to be preoccupied with my overwhelming thoughts of freedom.

I made a list of all the things I wanted to do with my life. I wanted to travel the world. Go to Europe. Perhaps I would climb mountains somewhere in the world. For some reason all of those elaborate plans I'd made never once consisted of me finding a mate.

Perhaps it was because I couldn't see myself sharing my life with another person, vampire or human. There was no way that I was going to put myself into a relationship with another person when I could physically feel if they were disappointed in me. I didn't want that kind of connection.

I figured that I would spend the rest of eternity wandering the globe, perhaps with Peter and his mate or on my own.

Without consent of my volition my feet were running, carrying me far away from that clearing. Away from my past, Maria, the bloodlust. The heartless, mindless, blind killing.

Past flat plains of dusty, orange sand and scraggly little trees that stood like corpses against the red night sky.

It felt exhilarating, lonely. No one's emotions but my own. Just the dry expanse of my chest where my heart should have been, the feel of the rush of dusty oxygen funneling through my lungs and the soft burn of the thirst pulsating in my throat.

I stopped once on my way to feed on a small rodent that I found cowering in the underbrush. It wasn't nearly as satisfying as a human would have been, but it stopped the bothersome trickle of venom that constantly coated the back of my throat.

The blood was thin and tasted stale almost, too nurtured with earthen things, not enough meat in the system. I shrugged, blood is blood. Just not as satisfying.

The sun was starting to rise, so I hid myself under barren tree, hoping that my skin in the sunlight wouldn't attract too much attention.

It didn't, thankfully. I entertained myself by once again retreating into the vault of fuzzy memories. Memories of girls and my first kiss. I had to laugh at that one. Only young Jasper Whitlock would try to steal the kiss of the prettiest girl in school. With her ringlets adorned with silk ribbons, and her dress immaculate. How in the world did I get the notion into my head that she'd want to kiss my dirty little mouth?

But she was just too cute with her dark hair and blue eyes and Southern Belle accent. She'd kissed me when I was twelve and she was fourteen. We were behind her house near the rope swing her father had built for her when she was younger.

We'd gotten a scolding from their slave, Bertha, for our antics. She's whipped me with her spatula until I ran away from her property. Mama had wondered what all the red marks along my arms were from, but all I could do was smile like a fool and tell her that I'd fallen into a tree. She didn't believe me, and I got a whipping for lying to her. Still I kept on smiling.

I had to laugh at that particular story.

And then I had to wonder if she was dead. That girl who I'd kissed. I couldn't even remember her name now.

I started trying to do mental calculations of the year. I knew that it was around 1862 that I was changed into a monster. And perhaps it had passed the turn of the century already. I was sure it had. I started to count years in my head. But I wasn't entirely sure my calculations were accurate.

In my desperate craving for knowledge I neared a small town. I didn't dare go too close for fear of exposing myself for what I truly was, but I did manage to glimpse a calendar tacked to the wall just inside of a small medical clinic that smelled of sickly blood.

_August 4, 1944_.

I could feel my stomach knot. I had to stare at the date for a very long time before I realized that it really was the year 1944. It had been almost a century since I'd been turned. How could that be? I was over a hundred years old.

My legs gave out from under me and I fell onto my backside. The impact didn't hurt, but I was in such excruciating pain inside that I barely took notice of the physical world.

When you had eternity, a hundred years shouldn't be too monumental, but those hundred years so devoid of anything that was loving or beautiful. Just murder after murder, more blood. It drove me crazy.

When did I become such a machine? Such a dark creature of the night, so putrid that even the sun loathed me?

I gathered myself, trying to regain feeling of my limbs. There really was no reason for my reacting that way. It still flabbergasts me that I was so upset about such a small passage of time.

I walked the rest of the way to El Paso. Glad that I arrived there in the middle of the night. It was dark enough for me to wander the street inconspicuously and search for Peter and Charlotte so that we could continue our journey away from Maria and the Mexican coven.

I didn't necessarily know what my future would hold from that moment on. And quite frankly, if I were to have known what my future would hold I probably would have laughed or ran all the way back to Maria pleading for her to take me back. But it was a whirlwind of emotions and heartbreak from there on out.

I was such a child in so many ways when I left Maria. It was ridiculous to think that I was suddenly going to be a different person.

I was still a red-eyed monster. Blood-thirsty, ugly monster. I had to find a way to reconcile myself to who I was. Because, the guilt was eating me away inside.

Peter and Charlotte were easy enough to find. I could catch their scents a mile away. We greeted each other—they were both surprised that I had actually come.

And then we were on our way north. We decided mutually to go to Michigan and then maybe into Canada. I was a little apprehensive about going north, old habits die hard.

But there was no trace of the war left there. I was the only one clinging tenaciously to the past. But I had to let the past go to gain my future.

* * *

**For some bizarre reason, this chapter was friggin' hard to write!! I don't understand. I think I had at least three or four different starts to it before I finally just slapped myself and sat down to write this. I'm not entirely happy with it, but whatever. Beggars can't be choosers. The end starts to ramble a little and for that I apologize. I was going to stop it and then I said, 'What the heck, let's keep going' and then I just kept going. So it gets a little arid towards the end there. **

**I fell in love with Peter a little during this chapter. I made him from Louisiana because I'm a dork. Deal with it. I have no idea where Pete is from, so I made it up.**

**So, question, should I switch POVs in this and go see what's happening in Aliceland while Jasper is going through his mini-identity crisis? Tell me if that's something you'd want to see. Otherwise I'm just going to stick with Jasper and his boring, self-loathing self. I love Jasper, who am I kidding, he's fun to write...but seriously, if you guys want Ali tell me. I'll alternate between her and Jazz.**

**The song at the beginning of this chapter is "Hear Me Now" by Framing Hanley. LOVE THAT SONG. LOVE IT. Go check it out on YouTube or Project Playlist if you haven't heard it. **

**OH! For those of you who read Seven Brides for Seven Brothers [or for those of you who haven't, go read it and then you'll like this little tidbit of information, too] I am working on the sequel. Fear not! I'm just being a bum and am having issues figuring out a plot for the sequel. But I have a chapter and a half written of it, so once I get at least five chapters written I'll start posting it. I'm on spring break, so I have a lot of time to write, so hopefully it will be soon. **

**REVIEW PLEASE, IT MAKES ME WRITE THIS FASTER!!**


	4. Awake

**Awake**

"_And you never feel good or bad,  
__Only strange and unprepared,  
_'_Cause I never see you comin' or you leavin'."  
-_"Strange and Unprepared" by Copeland

The tips of my fingers felt like wet little lumps of cotton. My throat ached and my head pounded. I was lying against something hard, and dirty that smelled of wood and dark leaves. I pushed myself up and put my hands against my head. My eyelids were too heavy, and my body was sluggish.

I tried to remember how I'd gotten to be lying facedown in a swamp in the middle of the woods. But I was drawing a blank. All I remembered was a large dark expanse like a long, tidal wave of blackness that made my eyes roll into the back of my head and my tongue felt thick so that it constricted my throat.

I sat up and screaming, wailing like a wild animal. Was I dead? Was this hell? I certainly felt like I had been in hell. The fire and brimstone I remembered, the impenetrable heat that had coursed through me searing me to my fate.

I touched my face then, the smell of the woods thick on my fingers. I inspected every inch of my body as if it were some unexplored territory. And for me, it was. Some new expanse of land to be conquered. From the white bones that protruded at my ribcage to the indent of my stomach, or the ten little toes on my feet. I counted my fingers twice, trying to remember what they looked like before. If there was a before.

Perhaps I was a demon, exiled from hell where Mephistopheles stole my memories so I was doomed to wander the earth in this barren little white body—or maybe I was an angel that fell too far and was scorched by the fires of Hades.

Or maybe I was a person who had been left to die in the woods. Or maybe I was a fairy or maybe I was an animal or maybe I was a princess.

I could have been a prince for all I knew.

Nothing made sense. Not the sharpness of my eyes after all that blindness, nor the rancid smell of the earth and some sweetly maudlin smell that tickled my nose, nor the burn that still clouded my throat. It was all strange and uneventful and I didn't understand.

Where was someone who could explain this to me?

Someone who could tell me who I was, what I was to do? Where was I to go? What was I? Demon or angel? Or some poor hybrid in between that feed on the blood of human?

My mind went into a fit of ecstasy at the very notion of blood, and sour thick liquid flooded my mouth, so heavily that I thought I would vomit. I opened my mouth to heave but nothing came, the thick coating stayed beneath my teeth, screaming at me for release.

I tried to cough it out but it stuck like paste into the crevices of my teeth and against my tongue. I growled deep inside my chest, a reverberating that made my bones vibrate. The noise sent the burning into more of a frenzy, my entire body tingled.

My spine arched like a wild animals that had been caged for too long and my legs ached with inertia.

I let them run, to carry me wherever they would. The sweet wind brushed past me, carrying me to a new wave of pleasure. More saucy smells to assault me as I ran with breathless pleasure against the current of flowing trees.

I saw them then, a little herd of dear, a buck: tall, proud strong with several does and a fawn or two. I didn't stop to think that my actions were condemning and such a taboo I just lurched forward and attacked his proud, muscular neck with my teeth. Ripping it to shreds in a mad attempt to find blood. More blood, my body craved for.

I drained all seven of the deer before I stopped to think of the ramifications. I knew what I was then, a demon doomed to walk the earth. A bloodletting demon.

I started to cry then, crying without tears just broken sobs, crying out to the open sky, begging mercy from God, if He would listen to such a creature as me.

I wandered around for a while, entranced by my skin in the sun as well as the moon, like milk and diamonds. I did nothing for those first few weeks or month but wander around in the dank forest, devoted to the trees and damp ground as a religious person would be pious to their alters and crosses.

It was a very long time before I left the forest, my belly full of the blood of a cat with silver fur and tuft-tipped ears.

The sunshine was hot and dry against my skin. I tried once more to figure what I was, all the blood and strange reaction to sun.

I didn't even have a word for it. Actually, if I were being truthful, I did. But the word wouldn't come to me. It was stuck on the tip of my tongue, just a lingering taste of it.

My head swiveled around, my eyes quivered as I sensed a little movement to my left.

"Well, well, well," a silky voice said. A body lithely dropped from one of the tall trees on the outskirts of my forest—all long, pale limbs and blood red eyes topped with a messy mop of shaggy dark hair. "I guess I'm not the only one around these parts."

"Who are you?" I asked. It felt strange to use my voice for purposes other than grunting and growling like a feral being.

The strange man chuckled, his startling red eyes dance, "I'm Pierre," he replied with a little dip of his head. "And you are?"

Who was I? I wanted to actually ask him if he knew me—knew my name. Knew what I was, he must because if he didn't he was talking like a crazy person.

"Alice, I'm Alice," I told him. I actually had no clue if I was Alice, but Alice seemed to fit. It was like an aftertaste in my thoughts, the real name was there, locked away behind some barricade that was useless to fight against. I just got that small wisp of a memory. Alice. It was a start, at least.

"It's is a pleasure, Miss Alice," he said in a regal tone, batting away his dark curls so he could better assess me.

"Hmm," he hummed a pleasant murmur in the back of his throat; he stalked forward and brushed the tips of his fingers against my cheek, "a newborn. How fascinating."

"A newborn?" I asked, only vaguely aware of what the term newborn meant.

"You're a new vampire, love, didn't you know. Didn't your creator tell you this?" He asked, a question in his ruby eyes.

"Vampire?" That term was familiar to me—an unspoken term for demon, blood-drinker, putrid scum of the earth. But fictional.

"Yes," he said, still questioningly, "No one told you of this world before?"

"I woke up alone," I replied simply, shrugging my shoulders.

"Well, who was your creator, that's a little untoward to leave a newborn alone—such a departure from mankind will only scare a young-one." He muttered to himself more than to me.

"Mankind? Like human?" I asked.

"Yes," he said, a little mirthfully, "You were human, little Miss Alice."

"No I wasn't. It was just dark and then there was heat and fire and then I woke up on those woods."

He furrowed his arching, dark eyebrows, "You don't remembered being human?" He asked, shocked.

I shook my head slowly; I could feel the cobwebs on my memories, the rancid trapping of my past, "No. I don't remember it at all."

"My God," I said, his eyes wide, "what an absurd creature you are, Miss Alice."

_Pierre roughly pushed me against the tree, the splintered wood cut large holes in the back of the dirty linen shift I wore. _

_His lips were against mine and I tried to push him away, but his hands anchored me at the shoulder and hip. The one near my leg inched under the hem of my shift to the bare bone of my hip. _

_I gasped and tried to kick him away. His red eyes blazed into mine._

_"What's the matter, Miss Alice?"_

A little shudder ran up and down my spine, and I stared at Pierre, still standing six feet from me, his hands balled loosely at his sides.

"Are you alright?" He asked.

I shook my head. What was that? I had no idea. "What did you just do to me?" I asked, my fingers pressing against my lips.

He cocked his head to the side, an amused expression in his red eyes, "I didn't do anything, little Miss Alice, I've just stood here."

"No," I murmured, my voice shaking, "You were holding me against the tree."

He chuckled darkly, "No I wasn't. I've been standing here this whole time.

_I gasped and tried to kick away. His red eyes blazed into mine. _

_"What's the matter, Miss Alice? I could be your companion, I could be here with you," his lips brushed against my ear and I jerked away, "we could stay together in this world. I can see that you haven't fed in a while. Your eyes—they're almost black with some strange yellow in them. That must be unhealthy. Don't you want some human blood?"_

_I jerked away from his hold, if murder of innocent humans was what it meant to be a vampire, I wouldn't do. I would rather die. _

I backed away from him slowly. "What are you doing to me?" I moaned.

"Nothing, little Alice. Absolutely nothing. Perhaps you're a little delusional from your lack of blood. You seem so thirsty." He stalked forward and brushed his fingertips to the underside of my eye.

"Don't touch me," I said, scared.

He laughed, "I'm not going to hurt you. Quite on the contrary rather," he said gently.

He rushed forward then, so that we were so close that I could smell his breath fan across my face.

Pierre roughly pushed me against the tree; the splintered wood cut large holes in the back of the dirty linen shift I wore.

His lips were against mine and I tried to push him away, but his hands anchored me at the shoulder and hip. The one near my leg inched under the hem of my shift to the bare bone of my hip.

I gasped and tried to kick him away. His red eyes blazed into mine.

"What's the matter, Miss Alice? I could be your companion, I could be here with you," his lips brushed against my ear and I jerked away, "we could stay together in this world. I can see that you haven't fed in a while. Your eyes—they're almost black with some strange yellow in them. That must be unhealthy. Don't you want some human blood?"

I jerked away from his hold, if murder of innocent humans was what it meant to be a vampire, I wouldn't do. I couldn't. I would rather die.

"Stop," I cried, "Please just let me go."

"Don't you want this?" He asked, pouting a little. I pushed him away, biting my lip.

"Leave me alone, Pierre. Go away. I'm thankful to you for telling me what I am now, but I will not stay with you."

"Yes you will, my little Alice," he said, forcing me back against the tree. I pushed him away and he fell backwards. That was the first time that I realized that I was stronger than he was.

"Let me leave, or I'll kill you," I threatened.

He laughed from his position sprawled out on the ground, "You can't kill me, Alice, you don't know how."

"I don't care," I replied loftily, "I really don't care." I stared into his dark eyes for a while.

Mirrored there I saw myself, a short crop of dark hair and large baleful eyes. And it felt right to turn away from him and run. Never to look back at the putrid side of what I was now.

I knew that I was a demon, but maybe if I shied away from the true side of my nature then maybe I would feel more human. Maybe then I would remember who I was. Maybe I would find purpose.

_"Alice, you're killing me here," he said. His blonde hair fall over his dark eyes as he stared at me._

_I had to fight the urge to brush it away to see his whole face. He smirked at me, a crescent-moon scar on his jaw pulled tight. I giggled to myself and leaned in to kiss it. _

_He smiled and turned his head, his own lips finding my own. We kissed for a while before I pulled away._

_"Do you want to get going, go find them?" He asked, brushing the back of his hand against my cheek. _

_I grabbed it and turned it over so that he was cupping my face. "I want to find them so bad that it hurts sometimes. But what if they don't want us?"_

_"Of course they'll want you, Ali, they'll love you. They don't have a choice—there's something about you that just draws people in. It's enchanting."_

_I laughed and he joined in._

_"Have I put you under my spell?" I asked, wiggling my eyebrows up and down suggestively._

_I pulled my knees up so I was sitting Indian-style across from him. He mimicked my posture so that our kneecaps brushed against each other. _

_"Oh, yes, I am most bewitched," he said. He had such an adorable accent, every time he spoke it felt like my stomach was flip-flopping. He touched my shoulders, and then slid his hands down my arms._

_"Well then, Honey, you've put me under your spell too," I replied, placing my hands on top of his knees._

_He laughed uproariously. It was good to hear him laugh, there were time at the beginning when I was afraid that I'd never hear him laugh. And I had known he had that potential but I didn't know how to make him open up to me. _

_He leaned towards me so that our faces were level, "I love you, Alice."_

_I bit my lip and stared at his eyes. Red around the outside and yellow at the pupil. He was so beautiful, and I felt myself give a breathless sob as I leaned forward to press a kiss to his mouth._

_"Oh how I love you, too. My Jasper."_

I let out another loud gasp. What in the world was that? Who was that? Jasper. Jasper was his name. Jasper with his blonde hair that hung over his forehead and ears and brushed against the collar of his shirt. Jasper with his red and gold eyes. Jasper and his scars. Jasper who I loved.

Or who loved me. But he was mine all mine!

I made it my goal to find him to find my Jasper. To see him one day and to kiss him. I would find him.

Jasper. All I had was a name. That wasn't much. But I had those strange visions, I'd just keep an eye him through there, and one day I would find him.

Jasper.

_Jasper_.

* * *

**I wrote this a lot faster than I thought I would. I just got a on roll with it. It was much easier to write Alice than it was to write Jasper. I was surprised at that. A couple of the reviews from last chapter asked for Alice, so here she is. I actually adore this chapter. ADORE IT.**

**Ok, so I got to thinking, how the heck did Alice know she was a vampire? She had no human memories, what the heck did she think she was? So that's why I invented Pierre, he's purely there because I could think of no better way to get Alice to know she was a vampire. He's not going to follow her, not going to chace her down, nothing. After this chapter you can forget about him. **

**I had someone ask for the timeline for this story, so I'll try to include the years and such in either the chapter or the author's note. So the first chapter takes place in 1908 (Alice would've been about seven at the time) the second chapter is about 1920-30's. Somewhere around there. Keep in mind Jasper really has no concept of time. It's all just finite to him. Anyways, as you know the third chapter takes place in 1944. This chapter with Alice backslides a little to when she was a newborn. Probably somewhere around 1920. **

**I don't think the next chapter of this will be out anytime soon... I just had a burst of inspiration and got this on paper. I'll try to get the next chapter up within the next couple of weeks. **

**Oh yeah, you know the drill by now for the lyrics at the beginning of this chapter. "Strange and Unprepared" by Copeland. Really cool song, my sister actually suggested I put it at the beginning of this chapter.**

**REVIEW PLEASE!! **


	5. Running

**Running**

"_You're running to a breakthrough  
__There's no where else to go  
__You're reaching for the sunshine,  
__The sunshine, the sunshine."_

_-_Tears by After Edmund

I'd left Peter and Charlotte as soon as we hit Canada. It was fall of 1944 and I was still a little on edge—I'd realized how much of my life…existence I'd wasted on Maria.

Peter and Charlotte were upset when I left, but I convinced them that I had no intentions to go back to Maria. Truth be told, I realized that I couldn't stand the companionship anymore.

The constant high of emotions, the love and the lust everything made me sick to my stomach.

And then there were other emotions. The fear, the hatred. Whenever I hunted I felt that horror the moment before my teeth found purchase on a neck.

I started to starve myself. I would wait until I couldn't stand it anymore, until I was so far gone that I would be so blinded by thirst that the emotions that were constantly buzzing into my system were second to the impenetrable heat in my throat.

I was thirsty again, and soon I would need to hunt.

"I can't do this anymore," I mumbled to myself. I ran my fingers through my hair. It was dirty and encrusted with blood. My clothes were in worse shape than my hair.

I laughed darkly and kept walking into the woods. I sniffed my clothes; I smelled of human perspiration and dried blood.

There was a small river winding through the woods, it cut into the landscape like a dark ribbon of water. It smelled fresh, so I stripped of my clothes and washed them against the rocks at the shore. I left them there to dry as I swam out into the deeper parts of the water.

I could feel that the water was cold, but it didn't bother me. I scrubbed furiously at my hair trying to wash the dirt and blood away.

'Jasper come in from the pond!' Mama would've called.

I would have argued and kept floating on my back, enjoying being outside.

But Mama wasn't there, not in the woods in Virginia or Maryland I couldn't even remember—my Mama was in some Texas graveyard in a coffin, and I was here swimming around this lake in a state that I couldn't name and I was still a monster, and nothing was going to change that.

"What am I doing here?" I asked aloud as if God would answer me.

I stayed in the water until the sun rose and my skin cast prism-like rainbows against the surrounding foliage.

I put my clothes back on and continued to travel north, or south. I wasn't entirely sure. I've come to realize in those few months and years after I left Maria and I was an empty shell of what I could have been. Maybe I'd sinned so much that I would never be whole.

* * *

_Jasper tucked his chin to his chest as he curled into himself, his back pressed against the trunk of a thick pine tree. He looked as if he would cry if he could. His hair had curled a little from his prior dip in the river. _

_He started to laugh darkly, then. Not mirthful or happy. Just a dark, morose rumble deep in his chest that permeated throughout the dense foliage making the leaves quiver._

_"I'm so thirsty," he mumbled after his laughing fit._

_He groaned as he stood and stretched backwards as if his back would pop. It didn't nor would it ever. _

_He swiveled his head around, searching for smells when his face broke into a smile. Not a breathtaking smile. A malicious, predatory grin like a cat after a mouse._

_His muscles coiled as he was about to spring, his dark eyes trained on something beyond the horizon_

_The lithe, cat-like movement of his muscles was exhilarating; he bounded past trees into a smaller clearing. There was a loose circle of men around the fire, laughing and eating venison._

_They looked unwashed and gruff—but happy, alive, nonetheless._

_Jasper was on the outskirts of their camp within seconds of catching their decadent scent, and then two of the men's necks were rent open within the next minute. For the final two kills he took his time._

_Enjoying the terrified emotions as if he were on some pernicious high. His eyes, sick and red with hunger and excitement danced around their faces. Their faces, flushed with red, wet blood. _

_Finally there was just one man left; he clutched his 12-gauge in white-knuckled fingers, whispering something. Jasper stopped his assault for a moment—pausing to listen._

_"…yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death…"_

_And then Jasper lurched forward._

"No!" I screamed, my eyes popping open. "Don't!"

I scrubbed one of my hands across my face and stared out the window of my hotel room, out across the cityscape. Towering factories with billows of foul-smelling smoke and a red horizon.

"Please, Jasper," I begged, clutching at my short, dark hair, "don't hurt him."

But Jasper wouldn't hear me.

I had to find him. Locate him, make sure he was alright.

The sun peaked out of the cloud cover, orange against the blood in the sky.

I closed my eyes again.

_Jasper ran through the forest, screaming. His raw, bestial emotion echoing from the trees. _

_"I can't do this," he chanted, "I can't do this. Can't do this. Can't."_

_He pressed the back of his hand to his bloody mouth, "Somebody, oh God, somebody help me. Somebody!"_

I sobbed dryly, unable to watch anymore.

"I want to save Jasper. I want to help him," I whispered aloud and then gasped.

_"Welcome to Alfie's Diner, can I interest you in one of our famous cheese-steaks?" A bored waitress drawled._

_"No," I replied distractedly, "I think I'll just have some coffee."_

_She nodded and disappeared behind the chrome-rimmed counter. I sat on a bar stool, twisting it around so that I could stare out the door. _

_It was a rainy day, dark and damp just the way my kind normally liked them._

_"Here you are, ma'am," the waitress said, materializing at my elbow with a cup of lukewarm coffee._

_"Thanks," I murmured, staring at the brown liquid. _

_The little bell above the door tinkled, piquing my interest. I turned to stare, unabashedly as he walked in._

_His blonde hair was wet and matted to his forehead in thin strands. His back stiffened when he caught sight of me; but I smiled, triumphant._

_The hostess hesitantly made a movie to approach him, but he waved her off. She nodded, clutching the menus to her chest like a protect shield. I noticed one last thing before I brought my attention back to Jasper's glorious face._

_'Alfie's Diner: Home of the Best Cheese-Steak in all of Philadelphia'. _

_

* * *

_

**This is going to be a long author's note. So grab some popcorn and a soda and sit back and read. **

**First and foremost, if you haven't checked out my submission to the Epic T Rated Contest go do that after you read this, it's called "Creeping Dose". **

**Secondly, I know it's been a while since I updated this story. I did a lot of thinking about it, and I've decided I'm only going to continue this story up until Jasper and Alice's meeting. There are a lot of good stories out there about after Jasper and Alice met, and I kind of feel like I won't be able to compare, or that it will be the same-old, same-old. So I'm just going to go up until the "You've Kept Me Waiting" part. I may do an epilogue of when Jasper realizes he met Alice before she was changed. I don't know yet. I'm really sorry if you were looking forward to some long story--but I just can't do it. I adore this story, but constantly writing it will get old and I kind of feel like I'll lose passion for it. I don't want that because I feel like this is one of the best things I've written. I won't make it just another obligation. **

**Thirdly, about this chapter--if you hadn't noticed, it switches POVs. Just thought I'd clarify if anyone was confused. Yes, Jasper was naked earlier. Fan Service. [laughs] Alfie's Diner: Home of the Best Cheese-Steak in all of Philadelphia is completely fictional. There may be an Alfie's Diner out there, and they may have darn good Cheese-Steak, but I've never been to Philadelphia, so I wouldn't know. All I do know is that I want a Cheese-Steak know. Bother.**

**Fourthly, the song at the beginning of this chapter is "Tears" by After Edmund. They're a little known band--so YouTube them or look them up on Project Playlist. I've actually had the pleasure of seeing them in concert. Now, look at how close you are to your computer screen _right now _that's how close I was to their lead singer. It was awesome. They're much better in concert than they are on the CD. My friends and I also got to talk with them before they played, it was pretty awesome. They were really down to earth and cool, it was neat. **

**Fifthly, REVIEW. Seriously. It really does make my day when you guys review and tell me what you think.**


	6. Time

**Time**

"_I tasted, tasted love so sweet,  
__And all of it was lost on me,  
__Buttons sold like property, sugar on my tongue,  
__I kept falling over, I kept looking backward,  
__I went broke believing that the simple should be hard,  
__All we all, we are,  
__And every day's a start of something beautiful."_

_-_"All We Are" by Matt Nathanson

I pulled my coat tighter around my shoulders—it was pounding rain, which was good. It washed the smell of human blood away. Or lessened the impact. It also meant that people walking through the streets would be scarce. That was always good.

I hated being such a monster.

_"Monstruo…monstruo."_

_"…yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death…"_

I groaned and scrubbed my hands across my face.

I wanted to do something impulsive. I wanted to feel something at least. Not the numbness I felt then. Anything but the monotonous deadpan emotions.

It was late at night—the sky painted cold, hard blue as the rain poured down. Like cats and dogs my father would've said.

I sighed and shook my head. There was no use remembering the past—I just wanted to forget. Maybe I would go back to Peter and Charlotte and ask them to kill me. Maybe then I'd be free of my prison.

Peter probably wouldn't do it. He considered me his brother, a kindred spirit.

I could stir up such a panic that the Volturi would come after me. That might work. I would welcome the pain of a searing fire as the smoke washed away every remaining trace of Jasper Whitlock.

But I need a diversion—a distraction that would pry the trio of ancient vampires away from their precious city. I needed a serial killing, I needed blood. Abundant, sweet blood.

I sighed and titled my head back, up into the air—smelling past the rain and the smell of bricks and asphalt and car exhaust. To a nice gathering of people.

I ran then, through the streets not even caring about speed. If I was giving myself a death sentence I might as well have done it well. Thoroughly damn myself.

There it was a small, well-lit diner it what appeared to be the seedier part of town. It was one of those specialty restaurants—always a one-hit wonder, locally notorious for some foul-smelling sandwich that I'm sure had I been human I would've consumed in mass quantities.

I stood across the street from the diner, staring in.

All the people there—maybe six, seven. All so good-smelling.

"Six people isn't a mass murder," I said to myself.

But that didn't stop me. I needed to feed. I needed a fix.

Like some addict to some illegal substance, I needed it. I had to get it; I would go crazy without it.

I was beyond functioning with some semblance of sanity.

I didn't realize that the only thing that kept me a monster was me. I was the barrier blocking my humanity.

I sighed and popped the collar of my trench coat up over my face. Maybe I wouldn't kill all the people. Maybe I would lure someone out with me and give myself more time to clear my head.

Yes, when I was better fed, things would make more sense.

I went into the door and pulled on the chrome handle. The little bell above the door chimed as I stepped in.

The hostess came up to me, a bright smile on her face. But she was nervous. They were always nervous around me—it was amusing. I waved her away lazily, my eyes sweeping across the room, looking for a victim.

There were a couple beautiful young women. They were the best—always entranced by my face, always far too preoccupied to realize that I was tasting their blood until it was too late and their euphoric satisfaction turned to terror.

But as I was smelling the sweet aroma of youth something else piqued my senses. It made the short hairs on the back of my neck stand on it. It was something I wasn't used to smelling.

Another vampire.

My eyes snapped to her, then.

A little female—about Charlotte's size, but she and Charlotte couldn't be more dissimilar. She had cropped dark hair, curled as was the fashion of the day. She wore a dark dress with a row of pearly buttons down the front. Her eyes a delicious butterscotch. I wasn't used to that. That was new.

And most of all, the thing that struck me about her was she was completely at ease.

She wasn't afraid.

Not of me, not of losing control in that little room full of humans—she was so happy.

So stunningly happy that I found myself smiling—it was contagious.

She hoped off the barstool on which she sat, and danced over to me with such grace that I thought I was looking at an angel.

And then, it hit me.

She wasn't a monster.

Not the way I was.

She was a perfect, sinless angel. And I was a demon.

But she smiled like I was the sun, like I was her light. And she radiated such love, such hope that I could feel it settle into my bones, into my cold, dead heart, into my very soul.

She offered her hand to me, and for some inane reason, I took it.

She was warm and soft, some irrational part of me noted. Though I'm glad that I was able to remember the little intricacies of our meeting.

"You've kept me waiting," she said, looking up at me from under her curly, black lashes.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," I said, ducking my head—actually feeling abashed.

She smiled brilliantly at me and stood on her toes to brush my hair out of my face. "We should probably go hunting," she said, tracing her tiny fingers around my eyes.

I nodded but then stopped as she was leading me back out into the rain, "How do you know me?"

She stopped and then smiled thoughtfully at me, "I know you, Jasper Whitlock, because every time I close my eyes I dream about you."

"We don't dream, ma'am," I said, still hazy and a little more than delusional from hunger.

She laughed—a sound like beautiful voices in some heavenly choir—"I suppose we don't. I can see you, I don't know why; but I see you. I saw you coming to the diner, I saw you leave the coven in Mexico, and I saw when you left Peter and Charlotte behind in Ontario."

I paled a little and tried to pull away from her hand, but she clutched tightly to my fingers. "How do you see all this?"

"How are you making me feel afraid right now?" She shot back, staring right into my eyes, "How did you convince Peter and Charlotte to let you leave so easily, how did you make them placid enough that they didn't argue?"

I stood still and stared at her, "You're talented too, then."

"I know Maria liked you because you're talented, you tend to babble about it when you're thirsty." She said matter-of-factly.

It scared me how much this little person knew about me, "And I don't even know your name."

"I'm Alice," she said brilliantly.

"Alice," I said again, "Alice."

"Yes, Alice," she said, pointing to herself then she pointed at me and winked, "Jasper."

"Yes, thank you, I know who I am."

"Do you?" She asked slyly, "Sometimes you wonder about that, too."

I was yet again struck by how much she knew about me. She must have realized it.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable—I'm just so happy, I tend to get overexcited."

I smiled for her, "Why are you so happy to find me?"

She grinned back but her eyes told me she wouldn't answer. I sighed, "You won't tell me, will you?"

"_No, at least not yet."_

At the time, I was so overwhelmed that I didn't realize those words were familiar to me. But it would be more than fifty years later that I would figure out exactly why.

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**I've had the written for a couple of days now, but I kind of didn't want to post it. This is the last chapter, and I feel sad. I love this story, but I felt like I was dragging it out too long. There will be an epilogue, I'm planning on writing that. But I don't know when it will be done, if you read Seven Futures for Seven Families you'll know that all next week I have exams as well as preparing to take the SATs, so the epilogue definately won't be out until the second week of June. I don't have an exact date yet, but I'll try to do it as fast as I can.**

**The song at the beginning is "All We Are" by Matt Nathanson. You should listen to this song as you read this chapter, it fits. So look it up on Project Playlist or YouTube!**

**Thanks to everyone who reviews and reads this story, it really means a lot to me!!**


	7. Epilogue: The Man with the Red Eyes

**Epilogue: The Man with the Red Eyes**

"_Finding my way back to sanity, again,  
__Though I don't really know what I'm gonna do when I get there,  
__Take a breath and hold on tight,  
__Spin around one more time,  
__And gracefully fall back to the arms of grace.  
_'_Cause I am hanging on every word you say,  
__Even if you don't want to speak tonight,  
__That's all right all right with me,  
_'_Cause I want nothing more than to sit outside heavens door and listen to you breathing,  
__It's where I want to be.  
__Looking past the shadows in my mind into the truth and,  
__I'm trying to identify the voices in my head God which one's you?  
__Let me feel one more time what it feels like be alive,  
__And break these calluses off me one more time."_

-"Breathing" by Lifehouse

I played with the hem of my button-up as I waited for Alice, she would be home soon. Back to the Cullen's house.

I would forever be grateful to them for their openness to Alice and me. They are our family. Truly.

I thought I'd left my family behind over a century ago, but Alice and the Cullens were my family. They were everything to me. And now, as Edward and I waited on the porch for Alice to arrive home safely—I was sure of that.

She'd spent the last few months in the South, chasing around her past. I would have loved to have gone with her. But my blood lust was at an all time high—and I couldn't restrain myself as easily as she.

So she went alone to face the darkness.

"Don't feel so bad about staying in Washington," Edward murmured, moving to sit beside me on Esme's porch swing.

"I should've been able to go with her," I said, staring blackly into the night sky.

"No, she needed to go alone," Edward said.

I nodded, slightly mollified.

What would Alice learn from her past? I wondered, sure that Edward could hear but not entirely caring. Would she seem any different once that void in her memories was filled?

I wish I knew the answer.

Suddenly Carlisle's Mercedes pulled up the long drive—and I would have my answer.

She stepped out of the car with a smile on her face, and her spirit apprehensive. Cautious. Her eyes had a deeper quality to them that I didn't remember—something ancient and knowing.

Her plastered smile softened around the edges when she saw me. She ran forward, at a human speed, and wrapped her arms around my waist. Her face buried in my chest.

"Ask me my name," she said, her voice muffled by my shirt.

"What?" I inquired, pulling away and running my fingers over her cheekbone.

"Ask me my name, Jasper," she said again, this time staring straight into my eyes.

"What's your name?" I asked, playing along.

"I'm Mary Alice Brandon from Biloxi, Mississippi," she declared, partially frightened and partially so happy that it made my fingertips tingle from the sheer potency of the emotion.

She continued, "I was born in 1901, I have a little sister named Cynthia and I have one living relative, a niece, who still lives in Mississippi."

I smiled for her, so overwhelmed by the flood of emotions coming from her. I bent and gathered her little body into my arms, burying my face in her hair as we shared each other's joy, our sorrows our curiosity and our apprehension.

I felt those all mix together into one singular bond between the two of us—stronger than diamonds, more unbreakable than steel.

We broke apart, breathless and smiling.

"I love you, Mary Alice Brandon-Whitlock," I said as I bent my head to press my lips against hers.

She giggled, and then a sob choked in the back of her throat, "Mary Alice Brandon-Whitlock-Cullen."

"Such a big name for such a little lady," I teased, running my fingers over the small of her back.

She laughed then, truly happy again not a trace of sorrow coming from her.

She smiled and danced over to Edward. He grinned teasingly at her and picked her up like a child.

Suddenly a memory danced before my eyes.

_Finally at dusk, her harried mother came outside and scooped her up. Though she appeared to be older, she was still small enough to be carried like a toddler. She wrapped her tiny arms around her mother's shoulders and buried her head into the crook of her mother's neck._

_Her mother cooed softly to her, and placated her wild hair. I frowned, suddenly missing my own mother and craving companionship._

_The little girl sighed, and started to speak in incoherent sentences. She was mumbling, so I couldn't understand her._

_The mother's emotions spiked to fear and disdain. She hated the fact that her firstborn was incompetent. I wouldn't necessarily have called that little girl incompetent. She was beautiful and different, even for a human. _

_The mother sighed and hugged her little girl closer to her chest, and her emotions turned to disappointment. "Don't talk nonsense, Mary Alice. You know real people don't have red eyes."_

I could feel my jaw drop as I stared at Alice, still nestled in Edward's arms.

Edward stiffened and stared at me over her head, his eyes wide like saucers and his mouth forming an 'o'.

I shook my head, venturing a hesitant glance at Alice and then frantically meeting Edward's worried eyes.

_Please, Edward, don't tell her. Please don't tell her. _I thought. He nodded and I could feel myself become less tense.

I knew her.

I could have killed the woman I had grown to love. I could have had her blood. I would have lost her.

Mary Alice with her sad blue eyes and her curly dark hair, Alice with her butter-coloured eyes and shorn black locks. Two completely different people from two different times; but, she was always my Alice.

She kissed Edwards cheek and then gave me a light peck on the lips before going in search of Rosalie and Emmett.

"You knew her," Edward said quietly staring at the front door of the house, where Alice had just disappeared.

"Oh my God," I muttered falling onto the front step and burying my head in my hands, "I saw her once—when she was very small. I wanted to kill her. I was going to drink her blood."

"What made you stop?" He asked, putting his hands in his pockets.

"She looked right through me, through the blood in my eyes to my soul, to my dead heart."

Edward chuckled, "She was always meant to be yours, Jasper. Always."

"I'm glad she doesn't remember me the way I was then," I murmured, "I want her to know how she reformed me. Not that I met her in a time she doesn't really even know."

"I won't tell her," Edward averred.

"I can't tell you how grateful I am for that, Edward," I sighed, "I want her to know everything about her past—I want her to know so much she grows bored of it; but I want her to know the man she saved. Not the man that wanted her in a way so despicable that I can't even bring myself to say the words."

"As I said," he nodded, "she'll never know."

I stared at Edward for a long time after that, gathering the reassurance he made himself feel and making myself believe it.

I would come to think about Mary Alice and her mother many times in the centuries to follow—and I tried to tell Alice several times; but the words never came. I think she knew, though. I hoped without my having to tell her she would just by some miracle know.

And maybe, she did.

Maybe through the darkness and the veil of her humanity she could see the man with the red eyes that had haunted her that balmy Southern, summer day. Maybe she knew the man with the red eyes.

**_Término._**

_

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_**That's all there is, there isn't any more.**

**So, that's the end to Red Eyes. I'm sad to see it end--but I've enjoyed writing it. I like the story the way it is. Short, sweet and full of Jasper-goodness.**

**I know a lot of you guys are going to be frustrated that Jasper didn't tell Alice. But I'd planned that from the beginning. He has his motives. He wants her to know him the way he is now--not the way he was. And he feels kind of guilty about being able to remember her as a human and yet she can't. If you don't like that, don't like it quietly; because I really don't care.**

**My sister actually suggested the song at the beginning of this chapter. We both agree that the lead singer of Lifehouse sounds like how we would imagine Jasper to sound. And my sister is also convinced "Breathing" is about Jasper. And I'd have to agree. If you haven't heard the song, YouTube or Project Playlist--they're your friends. Use them.**

**So, I'm done with all of my exams and the SATs and everything. I'm officially on SUMMER VACATION!! So, expect lots of silly one-shots from me and I'll be wrapping up 7F47F soon, too.**

**I hope you guys have enjoyed reading this story as much as I have writing it. Please leave a review and tell me what you think!**


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